


Cause For Celebration

by Anonymous



Category: American (US) Actor RPF, American (US) Writer RPF, Saturday Night Live RPF, US Comedians RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, I pivoted from one idea to another and somehow it just got filthier, Romantic Comedy, SO much smut this time, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 15:42:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21304520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: At long last, the project that you've been slaving away on is ready for the next step of its evolution. Bill has been an inspiration, and so supportive. Not to mention an insanely good lay, when you've managed to find the time to get together.Let's make time...
Relationships: Bill Hader/Original Female Character(s), Bill Hader/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 130
Collections: Anonymous





	Cause For Celebration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OverOnTheBench](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverOnTheBench/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Goodnight - Stay](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16239089) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 

> I told [OverOnTheBench](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverOnTheBench/pseuds/OverOnTheBench) a little while ago that I might write a follow-up to my follow-up of the original fic because I hinted about a vacation in that one. Leave it to me to start jotting down notes and then go in a completely different direction. 
> 
> There are a few things that brought this about but I'm just going to pin the blame on hormones. Also, compared to the earlier one this one REALLY earns the Explicit rating. Just.... hold onto your butts. I apologize in advance, I am a slave to the estrogen. Enjoy. ;)
> 
> ** This is a follow-up to [Sources of Inspiration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20693057). **

She had been working for five days straight on the second draft of the script, finessing and fine-tuning and freestyling some of the best material she’d ever written. There had probably been far too many cups of coffee (damn that Starbucks blonde roast for being so delicious), but she was prepared to call it even thanks to the lack of sugar and embarrassment of vegetables she’d eaten in that time frame. The TM really, really helped her maintain focus and keep her procrastination at bay, too. Bless Bill for introducing her to it.

Finishing a quick dialogue addition, she reached for her water bottle and sighed. _Bill_… they hadn’t really spent much time together for a couple of weeks. Not at all, really, unless you count one lunch near the studio when he was able to break away from the edit bay. And then she managed to talk him into calling in a false alarm (his car wouldn’t start so he needed to find someone to give him a jump), so that they could pull into the corner of a parking garage and she could administer a sloppy yet skillful blow-job in the back seat. Yeah, he found someone to give him a jump alright.

_\- That was fantastic, but you know I hate leaving you hanging like that_, he texted her later that night.

\- _I take rain checks. Also didn’t I tell you? Bought a new vibrator last week and it has 5 speeds._

_\- Fuuuuuuuck._

_\- When I got home I was so wet I could barely keep it in place to get off, it was like a fucking Slip n Slide._

_\- You’re a bitch and I could break a breeze block with my dick right now._

_\- Better do something about that I’m not driving out there at this hour. _

_\- So rude. I love you so much._

_\- Love you, asshole._

She saved her draft – basically finished at this point, she only need to do one more pass to gut-check a few beats and transitions – and stood up, shuffling into the kitchen to grab an apple out of the fridge. It was Saturday, which was always an unpredictable time to call instead of text but dammit, she really needed to hear his voice.

“Hey sweetheart,” Bill answered. An escalating lilt in his voice that hinted at frustration, but not with her. It was both lovely and a little scary that she already knew the difference at this point in the relationship.

“Hi, is this a bad time?”

“Amazingly, no, it’s perfect. I’m waiting for a pizza to be remade because I got all the way out to the car before someone opened the box and noticed there were green peppers and we specifically said ‘_NO_ green peppers!’ You’d think someone had taken a shit on it.”

(Y/N) cackled at the image. “Well I hate green peppers, too, so I sympathize.”

“I was proud of the way they all screamed in unison, though. Great comic timing.”

“Good genes,” she remarked around a mouthful of apple. She could hear Bill exhale and it sounded like a smile. “Listen, other than a couple of very minor tweaks, the second draft is done. We start shopping it next week.”

“_Get it, gurrrrrrrrl_,” he sassed in a high pitch. “Oh man, that’s amazing. Look at you go, beautiful.”

“Thanks. I’d uh, I’d love to find some time to celebrate, if you’re free?” 

“God, I would too. Beach day planned for tomorrow, but uh…” he paused. She turned to face the counter and realized she was bouncing on the balls of her feet like a teenager with a crush. _Come on, hot boy…_

“Can you make it like….8? I should be safely off the clock by then.”

“It’s a date.” (Y/N) dropped her voice to a low, silky register. “Don’t play too hard, I’m _really_ gonna need you to keep your strength up.”

Bill groaned as politely as he possibly could in public. “You’re a…”

“…bitch, I know. Later, honey.”

Driving all the way out to Bill’s new place could be a nightmare depending on the hour, but on a Sunday night it wasn’t terrible. She had changed her clothes three times – finally settling on a loose cotton blouse and a long drapey skirt – yet still had time to stop on the way and buy two bottles of champagne. When she finally pulled up in front, she paused after turning off the ignition.

“Huh,” she said. His car was in the driveway, alright. But it seemed as though all the lights in the house were off. Walking slowly up the front steps, she debated whether or not to ring the doorbell or let herself in. _I mean, he didn’t give me a key for nothing_, she thought.

“Hello?” she called out. No answer. (Y/N) flipped on the hallway lights and shuffled through the rooms; other than a bit of disarray in the kitchen that looked like breakfast with no time to clean up, nothing was amiss. No TV or other noises. She dropped her purse and the champagne on the kitchen counter and made her way upstairs – fumbling to find the hallway lights, then biting her lip because she’d only been here once before since he moved in and she legit couldn’t remember which door at the end of the hall was Bill’s bedroom and which was his office. Eeny, meeny, miney…

“Bingo,” she muttered softly, walking through Door #1 toward the silhouette of a long stretch of sleeping man passed out on the bed, lit from behind by a streetlamp through drawn shades. (Y/N) slipped off her sandals and crept slowly across the room, turning on the bedside lamp. Bill had fallen asleep with his glasses on, which was fucking adorable; his hair was jacked up enough to telegraph “windy day at the beach” and he was in a hoodie and board shorts with one arm crossed over his chest, one bare foot tucked under his other leg, and his mouth parted ever so slightly. Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty…

“Hey,” she whispered against his lips, administering a feather-soft kiss; it took three more of them before Bill began to stir, his eyebrows instantly furrowing as he reached up to rub his eyes and blurted “Ah, fuck!” when he only succeeded in pushing his glasses up against his eyeballs. She laughed in spite of herself and took them off his face, placing them on the bedside table.

“God dammit, I…. _[yawn]_… swear, I was only going to lie down for like ten minutes,” Bill chuckled, running a hand through his hair which only made it worse. (Y/N) nudged him over a couple of inches with her knee and then draped herself over him, smoothing it across his head with her fingertips.

“Long day?” she asked. He threaded one hand through her hair and brought her free hand up to kiss her knuckles.

“Good day,” he smiled. “I’m just a tired old man. How long did I sleep, anyway, what time is it?”

“8:15,” (Y/N) replied.

“Yep, I slept over an hour, OLD.” Bill lifted his right arm and pulled his sleeve down, staring at his wrist. “Wait a minute, did my Life Alert bracelet fall off when I was swimming?!”

“Looks like it. Which means a fish is swimming around with it in it’s mouth, and now there’s an ambulance wailing up PCH thinking someone’s fallen on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean and can’t get up,” she joked, enjoying the full rumble of his body underneath her as Bill laughed heartily.

“I bought champagne,” she said, inching closer to him and dropping kisses along his jawline. Bill hummed, wrapping his arms around her and sliding one hand under her blouse to stroke her lower back.

“Oh-ho-ho, well… I bought champagne _and a cake_,” he said, smugly. (Y/N)’s mouth fell open and she raised herself up on one arm as he wiggled his eyebrows, grinning like the Cheshire Cat and squeezing her ass.

“When did you have time to get a cake?!”

“I ran after drop-off to get gas, then to Gelson’s and then there was a crisis moment where they didn’t know if there was anyone around to _write_ something on the cake, so… yeah, dude, why do you think I was so tired?”

God, he was so sweet. And so fucking sexy; she only realized, just then, that there was a lot of chest hair peeking out from the neckline of his hoodie. Didn't bother with a shirt on the way home, aye? Bill stared at her, those big blues full of curiosity and lust as she stood up and hitched that long skirt high, up to her thighs; she climbed back onto the bed, straddling him and unzipping the hoodie.

“Bet you didn’t have time to shower,” she sighed, unzipping allllll the way; she ran her hands over his tummy, up to his chest, relishing the feel of his warm skin as Bill shook his head no.

“Sorry. I probably have a little sand in some weird places, we can shower if you w…”

(Y/N) shushed him with a finger, smiling and tracing the outline of his lips slowly; Bill’s hips bucked slightly, almost involuntarily, and his left eyebrow twitched as he opened his mouth to let her slip her fingertip in.

“I have a rain check to cash in. It’s overdue…_mmm_…” she moaned, as her finger slipped further and Bill’s tongue danced around her knuckle. He reached up and threaded his fingers through her hand, sucking down on her finger as he drew it away then gently, but forcefully, twisting her arm round her back and tugging her flush against him. The fluff below his collarbone tickled her cleavage; he smelled like the ocean and salt water and that scent that was just... _him_. She let out a soft “oof” as he caressed her face with his other hand.

“If you sit on my face…” – his voice was so deep – “…then I don’t have to get up yet.”

She pursed her lips. “You’re quite a negotiator.”

“I have the advantage, I know how bad you want it.” Bill tipped his head up to kiss her… soft, slow. (Y/N) sighed.

“Deal, mother fucker.” She clambered off him for a second time as he crossed his legs at the ankles, self-satisfyingly drumming his fingers on his chest. She started to unravel her skirt at the waist when she noticed something new. “Hey, was that there before?” she asked, pointing to the full-length mirror offset on one side of the wall opposite the bed.

“Ehhhhhyeah, kinda?” Bill looked a little self-conscious, raising himself up on his elbows. “It’s uh….” He paused, and her skirt pooled around her feet as she turned to see he was staring at her red lace panties. The only part of her outfit she hadn’t fussed over, that was deliberate as hell. Except now they were distracting him from answering as his eyes widened and he mouthed “Fuck, yeah” at her.

“Eyes up here, Romeo,” she said, snapping her fingers. “It’s… what?”

He exhaled. “It’s embarrassing is what it is, it’s what happens when you get a stylist and suddenly you have to try on clothes all the time.” He sank back into the pillows and wrinkled his nose. “Pretty lame, right?”

“Oh bullshit, it’s great,” (Y/N) leaned down to kiss him again, before she backed off and slowly, teasingly slid her panties down around her ankles. Bill’s eyes grew dark and he arranged the pillows under his head before exclaiming “Whoa, haha… excuse _you!”_ as the first thing she did when she got back on the bed was unlace his shorts.

“Besides,” she continued, hauling his shorts from his hips as he wriggled to allow her to get them off his long, long legs and onto the floor at the foot of the bed. “It’s going to be fun to come and watch you try _not_ to come at the same time.” Bill rubbed his hand across the length of his face and let out a slack-jawed chuckle.

“I know, I’m a bitch,” (Y/N) said, inching closer on her hands and knees while running one finger up his thigh. Very purposefully not touching his cock (which was still mostly limp; god, he _was_ tired).

“No, you’re not. You’re an evil genius,” Bill smiled. The _my god, William, you’re fucking breathtaking _smile that made her stomach flip. “Now fucking get over here, I need to taste you _so bad._”

The angle wasn’t perfect, but it gave her enough of a view to think to herself inside of 30 seconds _Oh god oh god oh god, this is the hottest thing I’ve ever done in my life._

(Y/N) still had her top on, and began to unbutton her blouse as she stared, panting rhythmically, into the mirror across the room. From this vantage point, facing toward the rest of his body, Bill’s razor-sharp jawline was perfectly framed between her thighs as he devoured her pussy. His hands gripped her hips like a vice, holding her steady. Every so often she could see flashes of his tongue as he lapped at her juices, licking up and down her slit… circling her clit teasingly, which made it harder and harder to concentrate on getting rid of this damn blouse.

“Ohhhhh ssshhhhiiiit,” she moaned, wobbling slightly as he swiped a little harder at her clit; she saw his Adam’s apple bob and it went straight to her loins, like someone zapped her thighs with a tazer. A sex tazer. She tried to stave off a giggle thinking _I’ll have to tell him about that one later, that’s “Bill puts on his fake commercial voice and makes up a full 30 second spot for SEX TAZER” material. _And then she finally managed to pop a titty out from her bra, pinching her nipple just when he decided to plunge his tongue deep inside her.

“God fucking dammit, Bill!” (Y/N) cried out; her right arm shot out and she tilted in that direction, and almost on instinct Bill’s hand found hers to steady her. She squeezed his hand tightly and moaned unintelligibly; he chuckled and hummed against her sex, stopping to gently suck a kiss into her inner thigh.

“Wanna get off the ride, lady?” he growled in a sleazy, carnie-like voice.

“No, I wanna _get off_, fuck face,” she panted, tilting her body back just an inch so she could wriggle her ass cheeks against his forehead. Bill placed his hand right at her tailbone to nudge her back into place – his thumb barely flirting with the crack of her ass, which sent a shiver through her entire body – and he continued eating her out.

“Atta boy,” she smiled, finally peeling her eyes away from the mirror to stare directly at Bill’s dick; he’d been gradually, gently bobbing upward since he began but all of the sudden as if someone flipped a switch, it sprang to life and jerked sideways, landing with a whisper of a thud on his left thigh. He slurped hard at her clit, she made a sharp keening noise, and he kissed her thigh again.

“What would it take to get you to 69 a hard-working bastard, anyway?” he asked, completely breathless. (Y/N) grinned, shrugging out of her blouse and peeling her bra away at long last. She dropped her register again and this time, added a little huskiness to her voice. Bill lost it the first time she did that, saying she sounded like Demi Moore in _St. Elmo’s Fire_ and it since became an Achilles heel for him. Get him where his 14-year old self lives and you’ve _got him._

“Almost there, baby. Get back to work,” she purred. Almost immediately, his cock twitched again and there was a visible patch of wetness on his thigh where it has been resting. _God, I’m torturing my poor sweetheart but this is just… so… hot._

“Shiiiiiiiiiit!” As usual, she should know never to get too comfortable in the driver’s seat; Bill suddenly plunged two fingers into her pussy and curled them just so he could get at her G-spot. (Y/N)’s balance gave out and she sprawled forward, tits-to-stomach against him which frankly, only gave him a better angle to work with. Now he could reach her clit with his thumb. Who’s the evil genius now? _Ya played yo’self, girl._

“You know I love you, right?” Bill sighed, taking big, exhausted breaths as he continued his handiwork. She groaned in the affirmative, her eyes clenched shut _oh god oh god, that’s so good. _"That's it, (Y/N). Come for me..." – Her legs began to tremble and she opened her eyes, looking straight forward to see that his dick was now at full fucking attention, practically staring her in the face like an open invitation.

_Alright, well earned. _She licked her lips and tipped her body forward, just enough to grasp him and tenderly draw the tip of his cock into her mouth. That peeled the hottest noise from deep in Bill’s chest and he stopped, for just a moment. (Y/N) only managed to get a couple of licks in before he pushed himself forward enough to suck hard on her clit... and that was it. Between how good he tasted and how good that felt when she wasn’t expecting it… she came completely undone.

“Ahhhhhhh Bill, _fuck fuck fuck fuck_…” She half-heartedly pumped his cock with her fist as she shuddered through her orgasm. Wave after wave, every muscle in her body unraveling until the next thing she knew, she had rolled right off of him onto her side and was laugh-panting in sheer bliss. Bill was giggling himself, the hoodie falling off his shoulders (she found it hilarious that he never took that off) as he leaned over her, dick still as hard as a fucking Stonehenge rock, and playfully smacked her on the ass as he reached over to grab tissues to wipe his chin.

“You just had to have your little tit for tat and leave _me_ hanging this time.” He rolled off of the bed; (Y/N) still had her eyes closed, tingling all the way down to her toes as she heard him walk around the bed and toss his hoodie onto the chair nearby.

“We’re exceptionally well balanced, I think that’s a very healthy relationship.” She flipped onto her back opened her eyes and saw Bill with an impish grin leaning over her. He dragged his fingertips from her rib cage, over her breasts and arms and grabbed onto her hands.

“Shower,” he commanded. “Now.”

_God damn._

After such an perfect evening so far, she didn’t think it could get any better, but holy shit the rain shower in Bill’s new bathroom was _obscenely_ wonderful. He didn’t last very long once he slid inside her and pounded her for a couple of minutes against the tiles, but the extended lather and giggle fest that followed was awfully fun. (She’d also really noticed for the first time how beautiful his eyelashes were with tiny droplets of water clinging to them. It made her heart burst.) 

She borrowed an old threadbare Magnetic Fields t-shirt (one of the secret stash of tees he’d hidden when he’d been instructed to throw stuff out) and a pair of sweats that were tight on her curvy hips and so long she had to roll them up like clumsy bell-bottoms. They stumbled downstairs and she was pretty glad he had bought champagne, too, since hers had been sitting out on the counter for two hours.

“Shit, man... close your eyes, don’t look!” Bill said, retrieving the pastry box from the fridge.

“I can’t open a champagne bottle blind, dumbass.” (Y/N) turned away, turning the cork gingerly until it popped, only frothing a little bit onto the counter. She poured their glasses out and waited for her cue.

“Now?!”

“YES, now, gaaaaaahd.” Bill feigned annoyance, almost immediately breaking into giggles in anticipation of her seeing the cake. She turned around and was greeted with a gorgeous chocolate cake with a beautiful mirror glaze, chocolate shavings dappled around the sides. Paul Hollywood would swoon over this cake.

…and on top, in fine white icing, in all caps, it read:

CONGRATZ MAN

YOU WRITE WORDS

REAL GUD.

LOVE U, BILL.

(Y/N) just held her hand over her face, shaking with laughter so fierce that it was silent. Bill thought he could take a sip but a second wave of self-satisfied giggles washed over him and his champagne flute it the counter with a clink when he saw her backing away, waving her hand over her face. He wiped tears from the corners of his eyes and snorted as they fell into each other’s arms.

“It’s so dumb.”

“I know, you love it though, right?”

“I love it so much.”

They held onto each other a moment or two more, deepening the embrace.

“I’m so proud of you,” he beamed, kissing her forehead. She squeezed him tight around the thickest part of his dad bod waist.

“You should be, now drink up, bitch.”

In the otherwise quiet house, two glasses clinked. And then a long, lingering kiss.

Before they realized Bill’s only good knife was still dirty from breakfast so they just went at the cake with two forks.


End file.
